White Walls
by xoxomolls
Summary: The aftermath of the prom shooting. Clare/Adam friendship, hints of Eclare.


::

Something is wrong.

Bianca is crying. Bianca doesn't cry.

Drew is fighting someone you don't recognize, but you do recognize the anger in his eyes.

Adam appears beside you and his hand slips into yours.

"Something is wrong." you tell him.

He nods. "I know. But let Drew handle it."

You give him a small smile, but it soon falls. "Jake broke up with me."

"At prom? He's an idiot, Clarebear. And besides, I know you weren't in love with him."

You look at him, feeling grateful that your best friend knows you so well. "It still hurts."

"I know. It won't last forever though. And I happen to know that a certain green-eyed hearse driver still loves you."

"And I still love him. But I can't go through that again, Adam."

He squeezes your hand and presses a kiss to your cheek. "It'll be okay. He's doing better. And you've always got me."

You grin and are about to reply when Bianca screams.

Your eyes shoot back to Drew and the stranger. The stranger that has something in his hand.

It's a gun.

You freeze and you feel Adam stiffen beside you.

You hear a loud bang and then another and your fingers are torn from Adam's as he shoves you to the side and you slam into the ground hard.

Then silence

::

Blood.

It is the only word going through your head as you watch your best friend fall to the ground, clutching his shoulder. At first, you don't know what is happening. Until you see the red puddle forming under him.

There is so much blood.

Someone is screaming. You don't know who until Eli presses his hand to your mouth and whispers that you have to stop. It's you. The noise is coming from you. You can't tear your eyes from the hole in Adam's shoulder. Eli notices and turns your head into his chest, holding you tightly.

"Shh. It's okay, Clare. He's gonna be fine."

::

You've always hated hospitals.

They're too white and too quiet and too loud all at the same time. It's too much.

Adam is wheeled into a room on a stretcher and you morbidly think that the red is a pretty contrast from all the white.

You wonder what you'll do if he doesn't make it.

Eli has an arm wrapped around your waist and Katie's hand is clutching yours for dear life.

But it isn't enough to make you feel like the world isn't falling apart.

::

He looks so small.

And too still.

Why isn't he moving?

You don't realize that you say it out loud until Mrs. Torres wraps her arm around you and answers.

"They have him on medication for the pain. He won't wake up for a few hours. You kids should go home."

You shake your head. "I'm not leaving him." _Not after what he did._

She looks at you sadly and you think she knows.

::

Mrs. Torres manages to convince the doctor to let you and Eli stay the night and you hug her when she tells you.

"It's not your fault." She whispers when she leaves.

You shrug and watch her put an arm around Drew, her other hand pressed against her husband's back. They walk into the elevator and the doors close, but not before you see the elder Torres boy burst into sobs and fall against Katie.

"She's right, you know."

You turn and face Eli, your eyes narrowed. "What?"

"It's not your fault. And it's actually really selfish that you're trying to make this about you when Adam is the one hurt."

You shove at his chest with your hands, pushing him against the wall as the words come pouring out. "Don't act like you know anything, Elijah! I know Adam is the one hurt! He pushed me out of the way and now he's lying in a hospital bed because of me! So don't act like you have any idea what is gong through my head. Because you don't. And he might die because of- oh my god. Oh my god. He might- oh god," you stop and back away, your hand to your mouth, not caring that Eli is looking at you in shock.

You can't breathe. And you're crying and you can't see through the blurriness and oh my god, what if he dies?

"I'm sorry. God, Clare. I'm so sorry." And suddenly, you're wrapped in his arms and you can feel his own tears dripping onto your head and that just makes you cry harder.

"He has to be okay. He has to."

::

You sleep in a chair by Adam's bed, curled up uncomfortably with your head against the arm.

You try to sleep, but nightmares of red and bangs keep you up. Eventually, you stop trying and settle for watching Adam's chest rise and fall. It reminds you that he's alive. You didn't kill him. At least, not yet.

When a hand falls on your shoulder, you jump up with a shriek, your eyes wide and crazy.

Drew is looking at you with a concerned expression. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Did you sleep at all? Your eyes are all bloodshot."

You shake your head. "Couldn't."

"Clare..." he starts, but you hold your hand up.

"Don't, okay? Just... don't."

::

Adam is awake.

Kind of.

He's still on heavy pain medication, but you don't care. All you care about is the fact that's he alive and breathing and he's gonna be okay.

His eyes meet yours through the room of crowded people and he frowns.

"Clare?"

You're really getting sick of hearing your name with such pity.

But this is Adam and you owe him.

So you shuffle your way over to him, tears already brimming.

"You're bleeding."

He reaches out his good arm and touches your forehead, pulling his hand away to show you the red substance.

Mrs. Torres is already steering you out the room to see a doctor, but you don't look away from Adam's distraught expression.

::

You must have hit your head when Adam pushed you away at the dance. You have a concussion and need stitches, the doctor tells you, but you're not listening.

Your mom and Glen and Jake are crowded around you and you're beginning to feel trapped.

Just breathe, you tell yourself, just breathe.

"Let's give her some space, Helen." Glen says and you feel eternally grateful as he leads your mom out the door to the food court. Jake perches next to you on the table and looks at you carefully.

"Are you okay?"

You shake your head.

"No."

And when he grabs your hand, you know he understands that you aren't just talking about your head.

::

You walk into Adam's room with six new stitches and Jake's hoodie hanging off your shoulders. Before he left, he had draped it around you and kissed the top of your head, telling you to be safe.

He's sleeping and the crowded room is now empty except for a passed out Drew, sprawled across the chair you had taken the night before.

Adam's eyes flutter open as you walk towards him, your steps echoing.

"Clare? What are you still doing here? I thought your mom took you home?"

You shake your head. "She wanted to, but I told her I wasn't leaving you. Adam... I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

He looks confused. "What are you talking about? You didn't shoot me, Vince did."

Vince. That's the name of the stranger that almost killed your best friend.

"But you saved me. Why did you do that? You should have let me get shot!" You shout angrily, your eyes filling with tears.

You feel like you haven't stopped crying since you got here.

"Clare. Come here." He holds out his good arm and you crawl onto the hospital bed, tucking yourself into his side.

"This is not your fault. It was my choice. I couldn't let you get hurt. You're my best friend. Plus, Eli is in love with you. That would have destroyed him."

"So instead you destroyed yourself?" You whisper pathetically, clutching onto his shirt.

Adam sighs and kisses your forehead. "I knew there was a better chance of me surviving than you. You're shorter than me. That bullet would have hit you in the head, Clare. Don't blame yourself. I made the choice and I'd make the same one in a heartbeat if it meant keeping you safe."

"You were always overprotective, Adam."

"I have to be with the kinds of trouble you get yourself into!" He replies in a teasing voice, his arm tightening around you.

You laugh and feel a weight lift off your shoulders. You can hear his heartbeat from where you head rests against his chest and you know he's going to be okay.

And so are you.

::

::


End file.
